


The Demons Within Us

by deecisions



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-08-29 06:09:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8478274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deecisions/pseuds/deecisions
Summary: The Briarwoods were unsuccessful in their attempt to take over Whitestone Castle, yet it is said that a terrible demon of shadow and smoke haunts its halls. The huntress Vex'ahlia has been forced to leave her twin brother behind to bring down the fell beast.





	1. Slayer's Fate

**Author's Note:**

> An AU where the Briarwoods were unable to take over Whitestone castle for some mysterious reason in a world where Vox Machina never met.

The infinite blank whiteness of the overcast sky above her meant that it had been at least a week since she had seen the sun. The brittle surface of the unending stretch of shin-deep snow broke unpredictably beneath her feet. The utter absence of color in the landscape was interrupted only by the dark, skeletal reach of trees that clawed their way out of the ground as far as she could see, and the great huntress Vex’ahlia wondered just how in the Nine Hells she had gotten herself into this mess. It wasn't the winter, really, that bothered her; she was no stranger to the cold weather. Nor was it the forest, though this one in particular had an odd feeling to it that set her teeth on edge. Vex’ahlia was uncertain whether the tightness she felt at her throat and wrists was arcane in nature or entirely imagined, but regardless, she knew its cause was the magical bond of the contract she had signed that committed her very life to the effort of bringing down the demonic beast that haunted the halls of the castle of Whitestone. 

“Come on, Stubby,” her twin brother had told her, “It's a good way to get ourselves fed and maybe make a bit of coin on the side.” At the time, she agreed with him. Vax’ildan was often careless, but he always, always thought about what was best for her above his own needs. He said it was because he was the elder of the two, and was therefore more responsible. Vex merely replied with a wink and a jangle of the coin purse that she bore the responsibility for keeping full. 

Regardless, it had seemed a good plan at the time. Vax had heard from a new acquaintance that there was a large hydra outside the walls of Vasselheim, and that they could get paid good gold for killing it. What Vax had failed to mention (or his acquaintance had failed to mention to him, Vex was uncertain which), was that hunting near Vasselheim was prohibited without prior registration. By killing the beast, they found themselves under obligation to The Slayer’s Take, the regulatory guild. 

There were a lot of words spoken. Vex watched her brother’s gaze dart quickly to the exit of the room, his hands on his daggers. Vex knew what he was thinking: _we can take them, and then we can escape. We are good at hiding, and nothing ties us to Vasselheim anyway._ She nudged his arm with her shoulder and almost imperceptibly shook her head. As the tiefling guild leader described the exact nature of their crimes (“The hydra was already under contract by the guild, and because the two of you had already felled said hydra, the guild can therefore no longer fulfill our contract. Consequently, the lives of our agents will be forfeit, which means that in exchange, your lives will also be forfeit unless, of course, you join the guild to ensure that the terms of the contract are met to the letter.”), Vex met her brother’s eyes and with a jerk of her head, indicated the doors that lead deeper into the guildhall, willing him to understand that they had no idea how many of ‘them’ there would be to take before they could possibly escape. He slid his hands off his daggers and took her arm instead, and she felt his tense focus shift to the guild leader in front of him.

“And we have no other options?” Vax asked.  
“It looks like we do not,” replied Vex.  
“Unless you are tired of living,” the guild leader pointed out. “Though that is not our preference, given that we wish for our agents to remain alive as well.”  
“Well, if that is the way it must be,” Vax said with a sober nod, “Then let my sister go free and I will take her punishment as well.” 

_Again, Vax, really?_ Vex thought as she suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she said, “No, darling. They can't kill you twice over just so I can go free from a mess we are both in. We will accept their terms and see ourselves through to the other side, just like we always have.”

“So be it,” said the tiefling. “Induction into The Slayer’s Take involves proving your worth to the guild by taking on a contract. As I have mentioned, failure to fulfill the terms of the contract by the agreed-upon date will result in the deaths of the hunters that accepted the contract. It is magically binding, so do not think you can escape your word merely by fleeing the city. To further ensure your full cooperation, you will both be placed among separate groups of potential initiates.”

“What? No!”  
“You can’t!” Vex didn’t know whether it was her objection or her brother’s that came out first, or even which words which of them spoke. Vex was certain, though, that the open-mouthed horror in Vax’s expression was mirrored in her own. She gripped his hands, her knuckles white. 

“These are the terms,” the guild leader said. “Do you accept?” Every bit of feeling within Vex screamed at her to say no, to escape, to keep moving, that they’d be okay because they are always okay in the end. She felt a nudge against her shoulder and looked up into the face of her brother, his wordless pleas encouraging her to give in and to retreat, where at least they could be together even if they’d be on the run. Vex shook her head and forced an encouraging smile, one Vax did his best to return. 

“We accept,” the twins replied, squeezing each other’s hands before finally letting go. 

That was the last Vex’ahlia saw of her brother, and if his experience had been anything like hers had so far, it was likely the last she would ever see of him. 

Vex had not started her journey alone. As the guild promised, she traveled with a small band of initiates. Over the fires at night when they camped, Lyra spoke of the man she loved, and how she wanted to prove to him that she was more than an awkward, bookish shut-in, that she was worthy of him despite his resistance to the match. Zahra spoke of the gold she would make and the security of having regular paid hunting jobs. Vex couldn’t remember the names of the others--one of them seemed to have a different name every time he was asked--but she did remember that they spoke of adventure, of finding their fortunes and discovering new places. Vex didn’t share their hopes for the future. Her own wish was simple: to see her brother again, alive and unharmed. 

The Alabaster Sierras saw to it that these dreams would never come to pass. Lyra and the others fell to the behir, swallowed whole while they slept before the watch could sound the alarm. Zahra finally fell to the giants, her brilliant death blow against the largest her own undoing when he toppled onto her and unceremoniously crushed her into paste. 

Now Vex was the only one left to fulfill an impossible contract: impossible because she was alone, impossible because she knew nothing about the demonic beast she was hunting or of Whitestone castle, and impossible because she had never been apart from her brother for this long before. There was no way for her but forward, and she knew that if she could just keep moving, eventually she would see the castle on the horizon. She could make it. She had to. She couldn’t leave Vax to go on without her. Who knew what he would do?


	2. Whitestone

When the contract had described a demonic beast of shadow and smoke in a far-off castle, Vex’ahlia’s mind leapt to a ruin of crumbling stonework, twisted gargoyles, darkened hallways full of shredded furniture, and thorny gardens so overgrown as to be impassible. The reality of the castle before her seemed nothing like the tumbling decay of her fantasy or of the castles tainted by evil in the cradle stories her mother told her when she was little.

Well, except for the overwhelming foreboding welling up from deep within her core; that seemed to come straight from the stories. There was no reason to think it would suddenly disappear, given that with every step she took closer to the castle the crawling on her skin grew. It was a slight tickle at first, one she scarcely noticed in her despair. But now, with the castle dominating her view, her skin positively hummed. 

It didn’t make any sense. While it would be a stretch to call the castle cheerful and well maintained, it really did not look all that bad. The stone of the massive, thick walls was of a dull grey, but Vex suspected that a good scrubbing would probably render it the white of its name. There were architectural flourishes here and there, but rather than grotesque figures, there were trees and mountains and most surprisingly, given its conspicuous absence in the sky, the sun. The garden was… well, it was rough. She could tell that at one point it had been lovingly cared for, but there were at least several years of neglect. Assuming the greenery would grow back in the spring (assuming that spring ever came in the first place), the gardens would resemble wild, rambling spaces more than the mathematical arrangement they seemed to be designed to have. Nonetheless, the gardens weren’t the impediment she thought they would be, and she imagined that at one point, they had been quite beautiful. The contrast between the castle’s appearance and her own sense of unease truly did not make any sense, but Vex had not stayed alive as long as she had by disregarding her intuition.

For the millionth time, she wished Vax were here. Of the pair, Vex was certainly the smarter and therefore the strategist, but her brother’s drive to action kept her from spiraling into indecision. There was also the matter of his stealth; when it came to cities, buildings, and civilization in general, really, he was far better than she at passing through without leaving any trace of his presence.

Entering the castle itself would be a greater risk without Vax, given that she had no idea what to expect on the other side of the enormous doors. It came down to this, she supposed: she needed information, and for information, she needed people. For that, she’d need to find a town. It was unlikely that a castle this size existed on its own, and the road leading to its door had to lead somewhere. She could keep to the trees and follow the road. Perhaps she would discover something helpful. 

It was a small seed of optimism, but she would cling to it, and perhaps her mission would become less impossible. 

 

The road was an easy one to follow, though it seemed to Vex that skulking through the forest alongside it might well have been an unnecessary precaution. It did not take long for her to come upon the village, and she had not yet seen a single person since the days-ago deaths of her companions. When she cleared away some of the snow, Vex discovered that the road itself was of faded brick with patches of newer brick set in where the wear had grown too great. The patches themselves were rough and discolored as if worn by the weather, but their surface remained relatively even, as if they had not much been worn by the passage of feet and wheels. It seemed to her that perhaps it had been some time since this road had seen much regular use. 

The village itself was… quaint. All of the cheer that was missing from the castle and the forest around it seemed to have found a place in the village. The houses and shops were framed by dark timber beams and set with clean, whitewashed wattle and daub, and there were far more of them than she thought there would be. Blankets hung from some of the windows to air, and Vex could appreciate the color they added to the village even from her spot among the trees. Smoke billowed from nearly every chimney, and though she could not see it from where she stood, the aroma of baking bread revealed the fact that somewhere in this town there was a baker. Though the streets were nearly empty, their snow-covered surfaces bore a confusing maze of tracks back and forth to all of the houses and shops. The shouting laughter of children in the distance convinced her it was likely the frigid weather that kept the villagers inside rather than any immediate threat. After weeks of stealth, it was a relief to be able to walk openly into town. Where she had hoped for a few thatched cottages and farmers, she found signs that here at least, life was thriving. 

Nowhere was that more obvious than in the center of the village square. A tree unlike any Vex had ever seen before grew as thick around as a giant and twice as tall. Its roots reached far out into the square, twisted and gnarled in the snow, and its dark branches stretched out stark against the pale sky. It was so out of place in the middle of a village for one, and was surrounded by a forest of much thinner trees of entirely different types for two, that Vex knew she had to see it up close, to touch it, to figure out just what it was. The square was nearly empty, except for some heavily bundled younger women standing and chatting in a knot in one corner, and an old, stooped man that seemed to be out for a walk on the opposite side. As she passed the young women, they fell silent, their gazes darting nervously back and forth to each other. 

Vex tried not to take their abrupt silence personally. She was a stranger here, after all, and who knew what these villagers had been through with a demon living in the castle and whatnot. It was difficult, though. It didn’t matter that the tips of these girls’ ears were rounded and not pointed or that their forms were soft rather than lithe. It was also clear that they did not come from money or nobility. It still stung, even after all these years, to be the one left standing outside the warm circle of friends. 

It was just one more thing to hate her father for. I will add it to the list, Vex thought, even though that list is probably a mile long by now. 

Vex forced her attention back to the tree and away from the gnawing in her gut. When she was close enough, she laid her hand on its rough bark and closed her eyes. Her affinity had always been more for animals than plants, but the trees had often been her refuge. Maybe this one could be persuaded to surrender its secrets. 

“Ah, so you have become acquainted with the Sun Tree.” The voice that spoke could almost be called deep, and though the accent was cultured and controlled, a slight quaver of age managed to escape. Vex opened her eyes, and standing next to her was the old man who had previously seemed like he had been out for a walk. 

She turned to him with the same brilliant smile that had helped her charm her way out of all sorts of trouble in the past. “So he is called the Sun Tree, then. There is something beautiful about him.”

“Many things beautiful about it, I should think,” the old man replied. “It has been standing here as long as anyone can remember, and for some of us, that has been quite some time.” He smiled, the expression not nearly as bright as hers, but there was something easing in it nonetheless. “You should have seen it in the days of my youth. Every summer, we would play beneath the boughs, and in the fall, we’d play in the fallen leaves.” The smile fades. “It isn’t quite the same now, though. Every year, its leaves grow sparser.”

Vex allowed the smile on her own face to wane. “Oh, I am so sorry to hear that. He really is lovely, and deserves far better. What happened to him, do you think?”

“The same thing that happened to all of us,” the old man replied, his tone a bit sharp. “Can you really not know?” He paused and then cleared his throat. “My apologies. My manners are usually much better than the ones I am employing at the moment.” He held out his hand with a slight bow. “I am Archibald Desnay, former Chancellor to Lord Frederick de Rolo of Whitestone.”

Vex placed her hand in his, and he kissed the air above it politely. “Vex’ahlia,” she told him. With a tilt of her head she inquired, “Former? Does another do your job now?” 

“You really do not know, then,” he said, shaking his head. “If you know so little about us, what brings you here? We are nearly at the end of the world, and the mountains keep most out.”

Smoothly, Vex replied, “I am known in Emon as a great huntress. My companions and I had heard of a behir in the mountains from an explorer, and there are those that will pay handsomely for its skin and claws. We found the behir, or rather, it found us. I am the only survivor.” She turned her face away, a gesture far more sad than her actual feelings. “I had need of supplies and of shelter, and though it pains me to admit it, I should like to see a map. I am utterly unfamiliar with this part of Tal’Dorei and need to make my way back to Emon somehow.”

“Miss Vex’ahlia, I am truly sorry for the loss of your friends,” the Chancellor said. “I wish I could reassure you that loss gets easier with time, but we only get more acquainted with it. It is a lesson I have learned well in my many years.”

It was a lesson Vex had learned well in her considerably fewer years--just not with these companions. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead turned her lips up into a small, sad smile. “I will remember your words. I hope, in time, I may find some healing.” She laid one hand on the tree again, the bark cold and rough beneath her palm. “What happened here, if I may ask?”

“You may, though I fear the tale will pull you deeper into sadness. It has been about five years now, I think.” He paused a moment, then continued, “I should not dissemble. I know the exact number of days it has been. Trusted visitors to Whitestone castle betrayed and murdered the entire de Rolo family with the aid of a few treacherous members of the household staff. The only survivor was the third child, young Percival.”

“Oh! How horrible!” Vex’s hands flew theatrically to her mouth. “What happened to Percival? Do the murderers rule in Whitestone even now?”

“The Briarwoods were ultimately unsuccessful in their coup, though by all accounts they should not have been. They brought an army and held the village, they had assistance in the castle, and they murdered the entire ruling family save one. I do not know what happened, but the Briarwoods fled, their army with them.” The chancellor sighed. “As for young Percival, he has shut himself up in the castle. No one has seen him for years, though we know he yet lives. Every few days, the village sends him up a box of food, and every few days, the previous box is empty. There is smoke rising from the chimneys as well.”

Briarwood. Why in the Nine Hells did that name sound so familiar? Remembering names was not Vex’s strongest skill, but there was something about that name that made her certain she had heard it before. Setting aside her confusion for later contemplation, Vex returned to the mission at hand. “That is just so sad,” she said, laying a hand on Chancellor Desnay’s shoulder. “Why do you think Percival will not come out? What do you think he does all alone?”

“I do not know, Miss Vex’ahlia,” he said. “I can only surmise that his grief has been far too great. There is rumor that he has descended into madness, and wanders the halls moaning at night, but these are children’s tales, cradle stories. I would pay them no mind.” 

“I will try my best, though those images are really quite chilling. Did the Briarwoods give up, then, after they ran away?”

“No, they had tried again from time to time. Every attempt ended the same way, though: with the two of them fleeing. It has been a number of years since the last attempt, so I expect you will be safe here for the short time you said you will be staying. Have you yet found lodging?”

“No, I have not. Is there lodging in a village that doesn’t see many visitors?” Vex asked.

“There are rooms above the taverns. No one has used any of them in a good long time, so I do not guarantee they are not being used for storage, but the tavern is clean, and more importantly, it is warm.”

“I will make my way there now, then. Getting out of the cold is far too tempting a prospect. Thank you for the conversation, Chancellor,” Vex said, bending herself into a shallow bow. “I find myself too sad to continue. That poor boy, all alone up there.” She was not even entirely sure that her last sentiment was insincere. She knew how it felt to lose loved ones, and she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be left alone in the aftermath. That poor boy indeed. 

 

It was easy for Vex to find the tavern, and after a briefer period of haggling than she expected, she found herself tucked away in a cozy room on the second floor. As she eased herself out of her cloak and her armor, the question of just where she had heard the name “Briarwood” before ran incessantly through her thoughts and she searched the corners of her memory for the slightest hint of an answer. She could not recall a face, nor a voice, nor even a land or a city… what could it possibly have been?

She felt her stomach sink before her conscious mind realized how she recognized that name. With shaking hands, she rifled through her pack, pulling out a roll of parchment. She opened it and there, at the top of the contract she had signed to preserve her brother’s life and her own, it said:

Lord Sylas and Lady Delilah Briarwood


	3. Breaking and Entering

Vex’ahlia’s hands shook so badly the contract slipped from her fingers and dropped onto her bed. She found the strength of her reaction odd. As an archer, she was used to maintaining her stillness and composure no matter what the situation. As a huntress, she was used to taking lives. With no other family, she was used to doing whatever was necessary to take care of her brother and herself. Fulfilling this contract shouldn’t be anything strange for her, yet she still could not help but feel as if she had been coerced into being complicit with murder, or at the very least, murderers. 

The bed creaked as Vex sank into it and picked up the contract once more. It seemed to be straightforward: she was to collect the ashen remains of the shadow demon of the castle of Whitestone and return to the guildhall, where she would be paid by funds offered by the Briarwoods. There was no mention of the de Rolo family at all, nor of the village. Strange that Chancellor Desnay had said nothing at all about a demon. Wouldn’t he know? Wouldn’t the whole village know? Wouldn’t it trouble the village from time to time? And what of young Percival, living all alone in the castle? Wouldn’t he know of a demon if there were one?

Vex gasped and dropped the contract again as if it were made of hot coals. What if there were no shadow demon at all? What if the Briarwoods had no goal but the death of Percival? What if she had been supposed to mistake him for a demon and kill him instead? She had often thought that morality was for those that did not have to lie and steal to survive, but the murder of innocents was farther than even her scant scruples would allow her to go. 

But then, what was young Percival doing in the castle alone these past five years? What had chased the Briarwoods and their army away, and what had kept them away? How did he survive when the rest of his family had not?

There was a lot that was not adding up, and Vex had always been good at sums. There was no way around it -- she would have to explore the castle.

 

Just before nightfall, Vex concealed herself in the overgrown garden between two statues of celestials covered in brittle, brown ivy vines. She was not certain that waiting until full dark was the wisest course of action given the possible presence of a demon, but as a tradeoff, she had not needed to explain herself to over-curious villagers. As the sun sank further below the horizon, she considered her options for entry. Vax had taught her at length to pick a lock, and there was a small door in the back. That was a possibility. The windows were of glass, but perhaps there was one of them that could be easily unlatched. She narrowed her concentration and focused it inward, letting the magic of nature fill her with its warmth, and she felt the rustle of her movements dampen and her presence blend with the shadows until she no longer knew where she ended and the shadows began. 

Vex crept over to the door at the back and examined the handle and the lock. At first, it seemed like the simple sort of lock her brother had drilled her on over and over until she could do it without looking. As she examined it closer, however, she discovered that despite its simple appearance, it was really quite clever mechanically. It was so clever, in fact, that Vex was not entirely sure whether she was capable of unlocking this door without triggering whatever sort of mechanism it was. She suspected she would not enjoy that.

Maybe she would make this door her last resort.

Vex stuck close to the side of the castle as she inspected each of the windows on the ground story. These too had been locked with a similar device to the door. In mild despair, she looked upward to the windows on second story. _This would be so much easier if I could fly,_ she thought. But fly she could not, so it was starting to look like she would need to pick one of the locks. The door was probably the simplest choice. It was not made of glass and would probably not shatter to pieces and alert whomever--or whatever--it was that lived here if the device were set off. 

Silently, Vex crept back to the door and knelt on the frozen stoop. She paused for a moment and placed her ear next to the keyhole. She could hear nothing behind the door, so she pulled her tools out of their pocket. Before she tried to disengage the lock, she would have to figure out if she needed to disarm the mechanism. There could be some sort of trick involved that would set it off if she unlocked the door first. She leaned in close to the door to examine it fully. _Oh, that’s it,_ she thought, _if someone were to unlock the door and then try to open it without holding in the button, the trap would go off._ She was unfamiliar with exactly what would happen when it triggered, but at least she knew how to prevent it from happening. She carefully slid the pick into the keyhole. 

“Were I you, I would immediately cease my attempts on the lock,” called out a voice from behind her. The voice sounded male and the accent was cultured. Though the words were crisply articulated, for some reason they were muffled and had a bit of an echo. If it was the voice of a demon, it was a posh one. “You are welcome to continue, of course, but I must warn you that the consequences would be quite shocking.”

Vex tore her hands from the door with an undignified squeak and flung them in the air, leaving the pick behind in the lock. Slowly, she rose to her feet, and being careful to keep her hands visible, she turned around. 

Before her stood no demon, at least as far as she could tell. If it was no demon, and in fact no one else yet lived in the castle, then it must be young Percival. If this was indeed he, he was not the young boy she expected. The figure was a good bit taller than she; were she to stand closer, the top of her head would not quite reach his shoulders. His hair was unusually white and unruly, and looked as if he himself had hacked it off in chunks when it had gotten too long for his tastes. He wore a frock coat of royal blue trimmed in gold with matching epaulets and buttons. It was too tight across the shoulders and upper arms, but appeared as if it had once been well tailored. His face was obscured by a leather mask with wide, dark eyes and a long beak. In his outstretched hand was some contraption she could not exactly identify, but by his rigid posture and really, the whole damn situation, Vex could tell it was some sort of weapon. Most importantly, he was aiming whatever it was directly at her.

“I assure you, Pepperbox is quite deadly.” He must have noted Vex’s gaze. “So it would be best if you were to stay still and answer my questions… unless, of course, you have some burning desire to bedeck yourself with several new holes and accessorize them with lead.” 

Vex nodded slowly in reply. She still was not entirely sure what it was this Pepperbox would do, but it seemed wise not to find out firsthand. 

“Now that we have that established, what is your name and why are you here? Don’t even think to try to craft some false tale about being lost in the woods. This is the second time I have seen you skulking about my home.” The figure stood steady as he spoke, and the device in his hand did not waver. 

Well, damn. It looked like the cover story she used in town was a bust, and he certainly wouldn’t believe she was there to enjoy the gardens and take in the views. What reason could she possibly have to be here that he would believe? Perhaps the only way forward was the truth.

“My name is Vex’ahlia. I’m here because I believe your life is in danger.” Even the partial truth was a gamble, but with Pepperbox pointed at her, anything she could say would be. She hoped that she was right and this was young--no, Lord--Percival. 

“I am afraid your warning comes five years too late. I am well aware that I am hunted.” He tilts his head, the avian features of his mask reminding her all too well of the moment just before a raven had swooped down to snatch a gold necklace from around her neck a few years back. 

“Yes, well, darling, you only know this in the abstract. You see, I believe I have come to kill you.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked what you read, come find me on tumblr at deecisions!


End file.
